DoctorLady MD

Standing outside the exam room, reaching for the chart tucked deep into the slot by the door, I paused as I acutely became aware of my fatigue. My feet ached, my skin felt dry and I closed my eyes for a brief second summoning the energy to keep going. It was the 26th of 30 straight hours. After working the whole prior day, then spending the night admitting sick kids into the hospital, I was assigned to the outpatient resident clinic for the morning and was running on fumes. I glanced over the chart and saw that I would be seeing a 4-year-old for his well visit. Trying to muster up some energy from somewhere, I took a big breath, brushed my messy curls that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear and entered. Before I could assess the room, the exuberant 4-year-old launched himself off of the exam table landing in front of me with his hands held high in exclamation, joyfully proclaiming, "It's a la-dy!" Having never been greeted quite this way, I startled. Then couldn't help but giggle. It was so amusing! In my rumpled scrubs, makeup and hair askew, unglamorous but sensible clogs, the last thing I would have called myself was a lady. His mother scooped him up, and warmly said, "We like to play games while we wait and one was to guess whether it would be a lady or a man who came in the room next. And you're a lady." I smiled back at his mother taking hold of his little hands and looking into his eyes, "Yes! I am a lady! Thank you for reminding me!" He laughed back at me and we resumed the normal cadence of a visit. That interaction has stuck with me and risen to the surface at different points throughout my life and career. Why didn't I feel like a lady? I'm a woman, by definition, that's a lady. But even the things that I am, I've often felt I wasn't enough of. Because somehow in this current culture of ours, we have to be better and the best at everything. If we are a career woman, we have to have it all together demonstrating continually how we deserve to be at the table, while still meeting others' expectations - and truthfully our own as well - of what it means to be a woman. If we are a stay-at-home mom, we have the pressure of being the perfect mother, housekeeper, cook, doting significant other and by-the-way, need to look great while doing it. And then, if we're a career woman AND a mother, we often have the goal and expectation of managing all of those things simultaneously and perfectly. And when we fall short, as we all do and will, because no one can do everything 100% - it's just not mathematically possible - we are quick to judge ourselves, to strategize on how to figure out how to make that math work next time. And the cycle repeats, expectations leads to failures leads to guilt leads to more strategizing and more resolve, again and again and again. And not only are we merciless with ourselves, we often don't show each other enough grace either. We as women too often judge each other. If we think we've figured out some element of our own lives, why has this other person not done that? If another woman makes choices that we don't agree with, we quietly tsk and pick them apart and make assumptions we have no business making, often under veiled preambles of "I don't mean to be mean but... Well, of course I don't know the whole story but I heard that ... Did you see what she was wearing? ... I can't believe she would allow her kids to do that ..." We don't see her struggles behind doors, her loneliness, her feelings of inadequacy, but we critique nonetheless. Does it make us feel better? Maybe if we are always falling short in our own minds, it feels better to point out when others have apparently "failed" as well. But if we were all more generous with ourselves and with others - allowing imperfection, individuality and failure - the door to our ability and capacity to truly connect and live life really and deeply and authentically is opened. Women are amazing. The things we can do and achieve are astounding. Our capacity for love and kindness, empathy and generosity, seem limitless. Our ability to multi-task and wear hats of all shapes and sizes simultaneously is perhaps even magical. Let's celebrate that. Let's give each other the benefit of the doubt, raise each other up, and love ourselves more. Whether we're in Louboutins or clogs, our hair is messy or well-coifed, we've not slept a wink or we've gotten our 8+; we're ladies. We're not perfect, but thank God for that.